The Mad Prince Awakens
by TheAmericanAlchemist
Summary: See how The Champion of Cyrodiil changed over the years after The Graymarch. See him go through pain and suffering as he becomes The New Sheogorath. Also if you want to see more of this, pm me.


The Mad Prince Awakens

A year has passed since the end of Oblivion Crisis. The Campion of Cyrodiil, Ticedo Maximus an Imperil Knight found himself in another crisis in a realm of Oblivion. The Shivering Isles was going through a state of change called the Gray March. This Gray March happened quickly with Sheogorath changing into Jyggalag the Deadric Prince of Order. With The Staff of Sheogorath, Ticedo was able to defeat Jyggalag and free him from tuning back into Sheogorath. After the defeat of Jyggalag, he told Ticedo that he is now Sheogorath and will grow into his position. This is his story of his becoming the Mad God.

Year 1

"I'm back Haskill!" Ticedo burst through the doors of New Sheoth Palace with a large sack over his back. He took his helmet, which was a fine piece madness armor, off letting his long, dirty blond hair cascading down his back.

"It's good to have you back my lord." He replied to the imperial, his stoic blue eyes shifting from the bag his master brought in and his master himself. By this time Ticedo had already taken his position at The Thrown of Madness and set the bag next to him.

"My lord might I ask what is in the bag?" Haskill asked. Ticedo wiggled in his thrown with excitement.

"Well, in this bag holds one artifact from every other Deadric Prince!" He shouted. "Look!" He stood up and dumped them all out on the floor. From Boethiah's Goldbrand to Vaermina's The Skull of Corruption, they were all there. "What you think?!" He shouted as his steward examined the items. "Isn't it great!?"

"It is quite impressive my Lord." Haskill trailed off. "I see that you don't have Azura's Star with you." He looked at the pile of artifacts and then back at his master.

"I know." Ticedo answered. "I had to use that to help end the Oblivion Crises. Back before I came here." He sat back down and stretched himself out on his thrown. "Have someone clean this up and put it in one of my bedrooms." A Dark Seducers, or Mazken, came to the pile and put them back into the bag. Once she was done she gave a bow and then walked away.

"Shall I send for dancers or would you like to have some wine, my Lord?" Haskill asked.

"Both please. I'm quite parched and could use some entertainment." Ticedo said with a dismissive wave of his hand. As he sat waiting for the dancers, he heard a voice. It was faint. So faint that it could barely count as a whisper. A warm tingling sensation tickled his torso. He grabbed at his chest and looked at Haskill, who had his back tuned. "Did you say something Haskill?"

"No I did not, my Lord" He turned around and replied "Are you alright my lord? You seem upset." Ticedo let go of his chest and reluctantly relaxed, but he could still hear it—whatever _it_ was.

"Yes I'm fine." He was a little worried, but that all halted as drink and dancers arrived. For the rest of the night he drank and enjoyed the sights before him. But in the back of his head he could hear _it_, telling him to awaken.

Year 50

The years went by and Ticedo decided to stay in his realm as Sheogorath. His people loved him and he loved them back. Everytime they needed help he would personally handle it. Even with all these wonderful happenings, something bothered him. The tingle in this chest became an ache the whispers became a soft voice; it always was with him, like a tick on a deer. The voice and ache ate at him every day and night.

One morning Ticedo woke out of his bed screaming. He had had the same night terror that plagued his dreams on and off. This terror was unnamable; for every time he woke up, he has forgotten it already. The only thing he remembers is that it is terrifying. A Golden Saint and a Dark Seducer came into the room with worried looks on their faces—they were the guards that watch the door to his bed chambers each night.

"Lord Sheogorath, is everything ok?" The Golden Saint asked, sending worried glances around the room.

"I'm fine…" he trailed off. "It's just that damned dream that I keep having. It's become more frequent lately…" He stopped in thought before remembering the two guards in his room. "Ah, you two may leave now. I must get dressed." The two gave a bow before leaving the room.

As they left, Ticedo got up and walked towards his lavish dresser. He stopped then looked at the mirror hanging above his dresser. He stopped abruptly when he noticed something he never saw before or never wanted to see. His eyes widened and he started to breathe heavily. He hasn't aged in fifty years. He got closer to his refection looking all around. But everything was the same as the day he became Sheogorath. In the corner of his eye he could see someone in the doorway. He turned and saw Haskill waiting patiently with his hands behind his back.

"My Lord, you have a visitor." There was very long silence. Ticedo was confused and very irritated. _What is it this time? _

_ "_Send them away I don't have time for trivial problems." He turned back to his reflection, still worried about his ageing problem. All while the voice was in his head and the ache in his heart. Haskill was about to say why it was important, but was interrupted.

"Where is he!?" A thunderous voice boomed causing the mirror to break. "I'll kill him!" It echoed throughout The Shivering Isles, turning heads left and right. Ticedo quickly got changed out of his sleepwear and info his violet regalia. As he left his room he grabbed a sword and the Staff of Sheogorath. Once he was already both Haskill and his lord ran to the great hall, where the Court of Madness is held. In front of the throne was a large orc-looking fellow waving around a large claymore over his head. His tusks were very long and his skin was that of an olive green. He had small horns on the top of his head that looked like the nubs of a calf. He was wearing nothing but a loincloth and hanging from it was a string of sculls that rested on his side. He must have been looking for something very important because he was breathing hard out of anger and shear hate. Seeing this possible threat to their Lord, the guards of Aureals and Mazken encircled him, with their weapons at the ready. He was about to lunge and one of the Mazken to the right of him but then suddenly a voice ringing out louder than the orcish fellow before. Like before, it echoed throughout the land.

"Stop!" Ticedo was as surprised by his new found power. He looked at his palms and gave somewhat of a small giggle. His gaze narrowed to the unwanted guest that was in front of his thrown. "Now would everyone, put away their weapons?" All of the guards heard and obeyed their command and they took respected places in the palace. All was left was the tall green fellow with the claymore. He was still fuming something. He looked at Ticedo. He looked very confused with a mix of anger. As he placed his claymore into the ground, he pointed at Ticedo.

"I know you, but what are you doing here?!" The orcish looking man got closer to him. He was so close that it was uncomfortable. Ticedo could feel his breath coming from his nostrils; it was almost like he was sniffing him. "You have changed… but why?" He talked to himself as he turned placing his hand to his chin.

"What are you talking about and who are you?!" Ticedo asked, losing his patience. The green man turned around, grinding his teeth.

"I am Malacath; the Daedric Prince whose sphere is the patronage of the spurned and ostracized," His voice boomed. "The keeper of the Sworn Oath, and the Bloody Curse; I'm the one who gave you Volendrung and I want it back!" He continued to shout. Each shout was like a clap of thunder that reached out all across the land. "My question for you is, what you doing here!?" Ticedo smirked at Malacath then pointed The Staff of Sheogorath at him.

"I am Sheogorath; the Daedric Prince of Madness, at your service!" he gave a bow with and even bigger smile "I welcome you, Malacath, to the Shivering Isles." He raised his head while still in a bow and gave another smile that was more menacing than inviting. He saw that by his expression was very confused but that was angered at the same time.

"How are you..." he paused to think about what he was at this point. "How are you, mortal, a Deadric Prince and where is the real Sheogorath!" Malacath was about to hit Ticedo but then stopped. There was no fear in his eyes and he didn't flinch.

"Oh you mean Jyggalag." Ticedo said in a sly voice. "I freed him by defeating him fifty years ago! I made this Staff to defeat him but I really didn't need to use it to crush him." Haskill came up behind him with his hands behind his back.

"Malacath, who ever holds that staff is Sheogorath." Haskill piped up. "He is the New Sheogorath." By this time Ticedo was oh so tired of this. So he walked over to his Thrown of Madness and took a seat. But then something boiled inside of him. It was the voice inside of his head and came out of him in a spectacular way.

"Malacath you can have Volendrung!" He shouted and motioned for one of his servants to bring the aforementioned item in front of him. "I have no use for it. Now scram, before I change my mind!" His voice sounded just like the Old Sheogorath. Hearing this frightened Malachath for he knew that Jyggalag is now free, and there is a New Mad Prince awakening. One of the Mazken came in with Volendrung and tossed it at his feet. He picked it up and then a whirlwind of ash consumed him and then he was gone.

Year 100

Fifty years have passed since Malacath's visit. Many of the other Princes did the same over the years but it was pretty much the same story. All that was left was Ticedo's own artifacts. The dreams became every night and his pain in his heart became a hot dagger that stayed within his chest. The voices stayed with him always and were shouting at him now as they became his own words.

"Haskill!..." Ticedo yelled walking down one of the hallways. "Where are you Haskill!... I need you!" He grabbed his chest and hit the wall. His other hand was pounding at his head. Then he realized something and an orb of violet appeared bringing Haskill with it.

"You need me my Lord." Haskill asked. Crawling on his hands and knees, Ticedo tugged at his pants leg.

"Make it stop!" he said an agenized voice. "Make it all stop!" He looked up was crying out of pain and fear. His shoulders shook, racked with uncontrollable sobs. "I just can't take the pain and voices anymore."

"I can't help you my lord." Haskill said bluntly. "But what I can do is stay by your side through the pain." He looked up at then tried to stand. His knees were wobbling as he tried. But he fell right back down. Haskill helped him up pulling his shoulder over his. "Come on my Lord. Let's get you to your bed." As they walk many times he almost fell down the long hallway. Finally they got him to his bed. Haskill pulled up a chair next to his master's bed. Many hours past and things got worse. His breathing began to become gasping chocks and his heart beat skipped. Every twitch and every shriek of pain, Haskill watched helplessly as his lord changed.

Then everything was quiet. He stopped breathing and his heart stopped. Several minutes passed, but Haskill stayed, hoping that he would take that breath. Once he was about to give up, he heard what he wanted. His master started to breath and his heart started again. He sat up in his bed and opened his eyes. The once dark blue eyes were replaced by pale white orbs. His hair turned white before Haskill's eyes and the man in front of him started to giggle. The man burst into hysterics, which lasted into the wee hours of the night. Ticedo was no more, but Sheogorath had awakened.

Year 190

"I'm so bored!" Sheogorath complained, fidgeting on his throne. "I can't take it anymore; I'm leaving for a vacation." He finalized, hopping up from his seat.

"Where will you be going my lord?" Haskill asked while his master walked to the door.

"I'm going to visit my old pall Pelagius." Sheogorath replied. A wicked grin found its way onto his face before he leaned back and cackled.


End file.
